


It's Not That Funny

by The_Selective_Participater



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Arachnophobia, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Dean, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Sorry, Men of Letters Bunker, Phobias, Protective Sam Winchester, Psychological Trauma, What Have I Done, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-03 03:30:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4085017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Selective_Participater/pseuds/The_Selective_Participater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A practical joke takes a turn for the worse for the Winchester boys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am honestly the worst at summaries.
> 
> I own nothing. *tear*
> 
> Not beta read so any mistakes/typos, feel free to point them out.

Dean deposited the grub before shedding his jacket across the nearest chair. Sam wrinkled his nose at the contents of the bag.

“Mm I love the smell of an octuple bypass in the morning.”

“Dude shut up, there’s some grass and shit in there for your highness.”

Rummaging past the wrapped heart attack burgers Sam found the plastic containers containing the much healthier options.

“You shut up and it’s not grass, its salad you ass.”

“Same difference.” Dean replied with a smirk, grabbing the bag out of his younger brother’s hands. He removed the bacon and cheese burger, eyes glittering and mouth practically watering.

Before the burger could make its way to the elder Winchesters mouth, Sam’s arm snaked out and grabbed at Dean’s sleeve causing the full force of Dean’s Death Glare to be focused on him.

“What the hell? Is your lawn clippings not to your satisfaction?” He quipped before snatching his arm away from Sam’s grip.

“Its _salad_ , Dean.” Sam reiterated for the millionth time. “I was gonna say you should wash your hands before you eat. You know, cause of germs and what not.”

Dean’s Death Glare intensified to the point where Sam could practically feel his eyebrows singeing. “You stopped me for that? Geez.” He growled before returning his attention to the succulent prize before him.

“I don’t want you getting sick dude. You know how you get all loopy and clingy and emoti-“

“Ok! Ok, Alright. I get it.” He sighed heavily before dropping the burger in its wrapper all while glaring at his brother.

Sam watched his brother stomp around the corridor before quietly following behind. And no he didn’t all of a sudden develop stalker tendencies. Sam Winchester was about to witness one of the greatest pranks he has ever played ever come to fruition. It also wasn’t just an out of the blue act of malice either. Two weeks earlier during a late night trip to the bathroom Sam discovered that someone-Dean- had covered the toilet bowl in saran wrap. Unfortunately Sam made this discovery after the splash back splattered all over his pajamas and socked feet. Still disoriented after have just woken up Sam stood staring at the wrapped toilet bowl for a couple seconds before marching over to his sleeping brother’s room and promptly smacking him in the face with a pillow. Dean shot up in bed, gun in hand, searching the room until his eyes settled on his fuming little bro and his soaked pants. He stared for all of three seconds before bursting into uncontrollable laughter. Sam smacked him again but it went unregistered as the elder hunter doubled over in laughter clutching at his stomach as tears streamed down his face.

“You…covered…I…” Dean gasped in between hysterical snorts and giggles. He _giggled_. The asshole actually giggled.

“You jerk!” Sam fumed, hitting his brother one more time before leaving to change out of his ruined clothing.

After the incident Dean refused to call him anything but piss pants for _three straight days_. Sam pretended to take it in stride smiling and shaking his head until Dean forgot about the whole ordeal.

Until let down his guard.

Sam bided his time until he came up with the perfect plan, and the perfect time to execute it.  
And that was exactly what this was. The perfect opportunity. He couldn’t help the small grin that spread across his face as he followed behind his unsuspecting brother.

This was gonna be good.


	2. Chapter 2

“Germaphobe bitch.” Dean muttered under his breath as he made his way to the bathroom. “Interrupting a man’s meal, you don’t interrupt a man’s meal.” He grumbled pushing his way inside the brightly lit room. Walking over to the sink he looked himself over in the mirror, baring his teeth. He waggled his eyebrows and silently chuckled to himself.

_Looking good Winchester._

Reaching for the faucet he stopped when he noticed a small box in the middle of the basin.

“The hell…” He murmured to himself while regarding the unmarked cardboard box. Sam the idiot. _This must be payback for the piss pants fiasco. Nice try Sammy boy_. Dean mused to himself. He stared at the box for a moment before saying, “Ehn, fuck it”, while unceremoniously removing the lid off the box. A shout escaped him as he jumped backwards not hearing the bathroom door close behind with a click. Dean was too busy staring at the abandoned box.

A hairy black led appeared over the edge of the box followed by another and another until the creature was fully revealed, a large black tarantula. Dean stood frozen as his blood ran cold; the only sound the rapid pounding of his heart, threatening to burst out of his chest. His breath sawed in and out in harsh gasps as he slowly took a step backwards.

_Oh God. No. Nonononono._

He stifled a sob as he too another step backwards without taking his eyes off of the creature that was steadily making its way across the sink. The pounding of his heart increased to the point where it was painful and he swallowed convulsively trying to keep the bile that was threatening to come up at bay. Dean continued his backwards walk until his back came into contact with the bathroom door. With a trembling hand he reached behind him grabbing the doorknob and twisting frantically and to his horror it didn’t budge. He twisted again and that was when he heard the sound of Sam’s laughter coming from the other side of the door. Without taking his eyes off of the hairy beast he licked his dry lips before talking as loud as he dared.

“S-Sam, open the door man.”

“Paybacks a bitch huh.” came Sam’s muffled reply.

“Ok, I get it, now open the damn door!”

“Don’t think I’m ready to just yet.”

Dean felt his chest constrict even further at the words.

“Pl-please open the door.” He pleaded hearing the desperation he felt leaking into his voice.

_Please._


	3. Chapter 3

Sam was grinning like the freaking Cheshire cat. This was turning out way better then he hoped. Holding on to the doorknob to bar his brother’s escape he chuckled quietly to himself before falling silent.

Strange.

Pressing his ear against the door he heard labored breathing and …whimpering? No that couldn’t be right.

“No. Pleaseplease. Nononono.” It was unmistakably Dean’s voice but it was all wrong, he sounded _panicked_. Sam’s big brother _never_ panicked. Even when a hunt of theirs ended up with them being lost in the middle of the wilderness, he with a mild concussion and Dean a dislocated shoulder, Dean retained his light hearted humor, cracking jokes until they miraculously stumbled across a trail.

Sam froze when the rapid breathing on the other side of the door hitched and the door shook as Dean pounded against the door, the sound becoming increasingly more fervent.

“Sammy, please!”

It was the pure unadulterated fear and horror that he heard in the older hunter’s voice that made Sam wrench the door open. Dean tumbled out backwards, his back slamming against the wall opposite the doorway. Sam shut the door behind him after noticing the tarantula had made its way out of the sink and was working its way towards the door. Turning his attention back to his brother he froze once again. Dean sat on the ground pale and trembling, one hand clenched over his heaving chest and the other braced against the ground. His eyes, wild and glassy, were staring at something that only he could see. Suddenly he twisted to the side and started retching. The dry-heaving accompanied with the panicked breathing made Sam’s throat clench in sympathy.

This was his fault; he was the one that caused his brother to be in this state. He…he did this to Dean. He returned his focus back to Dean who had stopped heaving and sat shaking, tremors running through his arms. His eyes were clenched shut and he whimpered softly as a few tears slipped free and trailed down his pale cheeks. Sam blinked away the moisture in his own eyes and crouched near his hyperventilating brother.

“Dean?” If Dean heard him he showed no signs of it.

“Dean…” He tried again, reaching over to rest his hand on the shaking hunter’s shoulder. At the sudden contact Dean violently flinched, pulling away before fixing Sam with a look that made him wish that this day never happened. That he could just erase the past 24 hours. In his brother’s eyes, overshadowed by fear was complete and utter mistrust. Sam pulled his back as Dean shakily got to his feet and without a second glance walked away and out of sight, leaving Sam still kneeling in the hallway.


	4. Chapter 4

_Dark, so very dark. Damp and cold. Shifting and crawling, hundreds, thousands of them._

Dean could feel them.

The crawling sensation covering every part of his skin. He stumbled into his room clawing at the clothes that were caging him in. He-he couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t- He kicked off his shoes followed by his jeans and desperately clawed at his shirt, all the while trying to draw in breath that refused to fill his lungs.

_They crawled into his hair, across his closed eyes, into his clothes. He couldn’t scream, they would crawl into his mouth, into his lungs_.

The shirt was thrown away from him as he fell to his knees. He moved until his bare back made contact with a cool wall.

_They wriggled, burrowing underneath his flesh, tunneling beneath his skin. Biting, **tearing**._

Eyes wide, chest heaving he stared off into the distance at the nightmare that he thought was long forgotten. He had to get them off. They were eating him alive. He was being eaten **alive**.

 

……………………………………

 

Snapping to, Sam forced himself to his feet, his destination his brother who needed him. Even if this was all happening because of something he did. Rounding into the elder Winchester’s room he stood rooted to the spot in horror.

“Dean!’ He shouted rushing over to his brother’s side. Dean sat, rocking frantically against the wall, clothing discarded all over the room. But that wasn’t what made the blood drain from his face. Dean’s body was littered in bright red scratches. In some places the skin was gouged out and bleeding freely, yet he continued to frantically rake his nails over his damaged skin all the while babbling hysterically under his breath. Sam reached out grabbing his brother’s wrists stilling their frantic clawing. Dean’s eyes remained glassy and unseeing but the unadulterated fear and desperation had Sam fighting back tears. Maneuvering so he was between Dean and the wall he wrapped his arms around his brother while keeping a firm grip on his wrists. He nudged the elder hunter with his knee until he was situated comfortably between his legs.

“I got you. It’s ok. It’s Sammy. I’ve got you.” He spoke softly, desperately to get his big brother from whatever terrifying place that he retreated to. Dean’s body trembled against his and he once again cursed himself for the stupid prank that caused his brother to be in this wrecked state. After what seemed like forever Dean stopped trying to free his wrists to get at his already damaged skin but the trembling persisted. Sam drew him closer trying to will some of his warmth to enter his brother. Dean’s wrist went limp in his grip and Sam slowly released them and they fell limply at Dean’s sides. Sam maneuvered so that they were facing each other, Dean’s eyes were screwed shut but his breath was no longer quick and erratic. Sam reached under his brother’s arms drawing him closer until Dean’s head rested against his shoulder. He didn’t know how long they sat there in a one-sided embrace before he felt Dean’s arms slowly snake up and grasp at his younger brother’s shirt. Sam wanted to cry in relief when he felt Dean tuck his head into the crook of his neck, choosing to seek comfort rather then pushing him away as customary. The fact that his usual anti-chick-flick moment big bro was currently holding on to him like a lifeline spoke volumes of his emotional state.  
Although he was shaken, and that was an understatement, he knew it was more important to keep a level head for Dean. His grip unconsciously tightened around his brother. He had plenty of time to get to the bottom of Dean’s extreme reaction and he would.

Whatever this would he would help his brother get through it. And he’d be damned if he ever let it happen again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One or two more chapters then finished. I think. Who knows.


End file.
